


Quiet Fears

by maharieel



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, but it made me emotional, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharieel/pseuds/maharieel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stereotypical headache/migraine fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Fears

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this idea in my head for ages and could never figure out how to write it out, but now that I have I'm pretty proud. I hope you all like it too!

It seemed as though the pain would never leave him, as if a poltergeist infinitely roamed his mind like a curse. There were bouts of relief, but after the mayhem that had been Mars, such moments were becoming sparse. Whether it was tingling or pulses, there was always _something_ to keep him on edge. Nothing major, or at least nothing a few tablets and a good night’s rest couldn’t fix; Chakwas had, as always, been especially helpful with the matter. After going downside a few times in the past few weeks and returning with barely an absent ache in the back of his mind, Kaidan had been sure he was on the mend. Hell, Chakwas had even cleared him to use his biotics fully earlier in the week. He should have been back to normal, as strong as ever. But of course, he’d jinxed himself. 

Tucked on the couch in the observatory, he’d spent the past half an hour trying to distract his mind from the pain that had lingered since their return earlier. Kaidan had attempted to get some rest, but some of the crew had been talking restlessly in their quarters, and even the slightest noise seemed to make everything burst. So he’d left, content to sleep on the couch if it meant he’d get some peace. All the lights were off, the shutters were closed and he’d buried himself under a layer of blankets. Still, the pain persisted. And it was different to usual; he’d only suffered throbbing, pulsing or an absent pounding in his temples in recent weeks. 

Tonight, his mind _burned_. 

He felt like his whole head had been dunked in a pot of lava, like smoke was pouring from his eyes and fire was dripping from his ears. Every time he so much as slit open his eyes, an explosion of flames danced across his vision and he had the odd sensation of drowning. The medication Chakwas had prescribed him had done nothing; it was about as effective as punching a reaper. 

Not only was he experiencing some of the worst pain he’d ever felt, but his senses seemed heightened too. The rumbling of the engines a floor below seemed louder than physically possible, shaking the entire room and he swore he could hear the skeleton crew working in the CIC above him, swore he could have identified every time anything so much as moved or made a noise. It was infuriating. 

Rolling so his face was shoved into the corner of the couch, Kaidan groaned, which was a stupid move, really, because it just sent a burst of pain flaring in the back of his skull. 

He contemplated stumbling to the Med Bay but decided against it. Despite Chakwas’s best efforts it would still be far too bright, and the fact that the AI core was only separated by a wall meant the constant hum of EDI’s systems would only make the pain worse. Also, the Mess would still be inhabited by a few of the crew stuck on odd schedules, and their chatter may actually cause him to combust. 

There was one spot on the ship that he knew for a fact was almost silent during the night cycle. The only problem was, he wasn’t sure if he’d be welcome. 

Deciding that he wouldn’t know unless he tried, Kaidan dragged himself off the couch. The second his feet hit the ground his whole world tipped and he barely caught himself on the couch arm as his legs gave out slightly. _Stupid fucking implants._

Manoeuvring down the hall to the elevator was one of the hardest things Kaidan had ever done. The lights and movement in the Mess were as bad as he’d expected (he’d stumbled into the wall countless times in agony) and the lights rimming the walkways looked like a thousand miniature suns behind his closed eyelids. By the time he was a crumpled heap against the elevator wall, tears were staining his face. 

_Please,_ he thought to himself as he pressed the top button. The movement was made difficult by the tremors wracking him; he balled his fingers into a white-knuckled fist as the elevator began to slowly rise. For the first time Kaidan was glad they’d got rid of all the stairs. 

_(In his pain, he missed the way the elevator hesitated as EDI checked his ID, missed the green flash of confirmation that signalled he could come up)._

He wasn’t ready for the soft ‘ding’ the elevator made as it reached its destination, or the whoosh of the doors sliding open. The sudden sounds sent him stumbling out of the lift and crashing into the opposite wall, crying out in pain. Again, dumb move. His vision went black and he crumpled, tears mixing with the flames of his mind as he whimpered. What did he do to possibly deserve such a bad score? All of his training, years and years of fighting and saving and he got knocked down by a _migraine_ because of the very thing that gave him his power . . . that made him special. If he hadn’t been on the verge of implosion, Kaidan would have laughed at the irony of the situation. 

The pain subsided, _barely_ , so Kaidan dragged himself half to his feet and made his way to the door. His sweat-coated hand faltered against the lock mechanism as he let it read his prints – typical that this was the only door with such technology in the whole ship. He stood there, trembling and crying, one hand pushed against the door, the other clutching at his forehead, and waited. It only then dawned on him that it was the middle of the night; why had he thought she’d be awake? 

His doubts flew out the window as the door slid open. He stayed put for a moment, staring into the pitch-black room lit only by the cool blue glow of the massive (and empty) fish tank. The only sound was the soft bubbling of the tank filter, but he was sure he could only hear it because of his current state. _Perfect._

Something shuffled deep in the room, and a few seconds later the hazy outline of Noa appeared by the foot of the bed. He could barely make out her face through the tears and pain searing within him, but he couldn’t hear her telling him to leave either, so he took that as a good sign. 

“Shit, Kaidan?” she whispered, barely audible, as if she could possibly know of his state. 

The floor met his knees seconds after the words left her mouth, followed by a whimper as he gave up on the façade of strength he’d been attempting to hold up like a fool. There was the soft thud of her footsteps crossing the room and then she was there, touching him with those strangely tender hands of hers, calloused fingers trailing through his hair as if she knew just where it hurt. Her skin was cold against his and the sigh that left him was the first good thing he’d felt all night. 

She sat with him on the floor for a moment before tapping his shoulders. He understood, letting her loop her muscled arms under his and slowly hoisting him to his feet. Her movements were always soft, and he was aware of the way she was trying hard not to grab him too tightly as she guided him to the bed. He would always wonder how a woman who found joy in successful headshots and blowing things up could possibly be so gentle. The woman the galaxy knew would never willingly sit with you while you talked through your thoughts, or patch up wounds with the gentle efficiency of a mother rubbing her child’s skinned knees, or take you out for drinks when you were feeling down. No, the galaxy only knew Commander Shepard, the survivor and saviour who left trails of dead bodies in her wake. A small part of Kaidan felt privileged to know both the Commander and the woman in unison. 

Getting down the stairs was a bit of a challenge, but she somehow managed to keep them both upright long enough for him to sit on the edge of her bed. Again with their silent code, she tapped his chest and he obeyed by lifting his arms just enough for her to peel his shirt off. Having it removed felt amazing as a rush of cool air from her air-conditioning hit him like a train. 

Kaidan gripped the bed with both hands, eyes so firmly shut he feared his eyeballs might explode, as Noa slowly removed his boots and socks. She tapped his thighs and he pushed up just enough for her to slip his trousers off until he was in nothing but his boxers; he’d lost any sense of self-consciousness around Noa long ago.

The boiling under his skin had calmed down to nothing but a soft burn. 

“Ok?” Noa whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear. Her lips met his ever so briefly – none of the desperation or need she usually expressed present – as her hands again went to his hair. Kaidan managed a slight nod as she massaged his temples. 

Her presence disappeared and he took that as his queue to lie down. The feel of her mattress sinking around him was much more welcome then the firmness of the couch. Eventually he felt the other side of the mattress sink too as she got into bed _(his closed eyes had missed her folding his things up on a chair and turning the fish tank off, leaving the room utterly silent and dark)._

Kaidan was about to roll over when Noa pressed herself against his back, the feel of her bare skin on his making his chest tighten despite the pain. One of her arms found itself draped over him and Kaidan immediately clutched it to his chest, curling into her until he was nothing but a ball of tremors and tears. He felt her heart racing against his back and he wondered why. The thought that she would be worried, or god forbid _scared_ about his wellbeing never registered fully as sleep grabbed at him so quickly he barely felt himself falling into the dark.


End file.
